Acquainted With The Night
by Neko-chan -Silvered Tongue
Summary: ~For remembrance...~


Acquainted With the Night

By: Neko-chan

Disclaimer: Neko-chan owns none of the soon-to-be-mentioned characters. She doesn't even own the poem that inspired her fic. Robert Frost does. x.x;; Sad, but true. All she owns are the anime DVDs that she blows each paycheck on. ;_;

By The Way--Heero's little memory with the little girl and puppy really did happen...you see a little snippet of it in Endless Waltz. Just to let ya know! ^_~

  
  


~*~

  
  


Acquainted With the Night

  
  


I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain--and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet

When far away an interrupted cry

Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

And further still an unearthly height

One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.

I have been one acquainted with the night.

  
  


~*~

Carnage, utter and complete desolation. Heero sucked in a breath and slowly walked down the street, stepping over bits and pieces of what was once buildings...and homes. He shuddered, remembering a time long ago...

It had happened in much the same way. He had been on a mission and had been arrogant. Not thinking of the homes around the military base, Heero had planted explosives in every possible place he could find. Later on that day, he had met a little girl and her puppy. She had given him his first present--a flower. By nighttime, she and her puppy were dead.

All because of him.

Heero paused for a minute and slumped down, falling to his knees on the fire-scorched pavement. "Why?" he whispered. "Why does everything I touch always end up dead?" Reaching forward, he picked up a handful of ash, letting it trickle from his hands like an hourglass. A wind picked up, restarting the small fires that had been about to go out.

Just like before, this time had been an accident. He had gotten careless and arrogant. Last time should have taught him the lessons of those two character flaws. But it hadn't. And, once again, he had innocent deaths on his hands. He hadn't meant to kill all of these people... But, in the end, did it really matter? They were dead now, nothing he could do about it. No matter how much he wanted to change it, he couldn't do anything. Nothing.

He couldn't even weep for the dead. He didn't know how to. No one had ever shown him that side of human nature. He was a trained killing machine, after all.

But, after everything's said and done, what was to be done with a flawed human being and an ImPerfect Soldier? He belonged to neither world...and yet both.

Swaying to his feet, Heero made his way further into the destruction. So much loss, so much death, so much happiness replaced with pain and suffering. Closing his eyes, he let the heat from the fires dance along his skin. No matter how hard he ran, he would never escape the first time...and now this time. Death was a constant companion, never to be left behind.

Duo called himself Shinigami, but that wasn't true. If anyone was the Great Destroyer, Shinigami, it would be Heero. Duo brought light and happiness, as did Quatre. Trowa and Wufei brought life and justice to this world.

Looking down with eyes filled with tears that would not fall, Heero saw a scorched doll, half of its body burned away from one of the several explosions. A child's doll. A little girl's doll. A little girl that would never grow up, never get married, and never give dolls like this to her own children.

Falling to his knees, Heero clutched the doll to his chest, trying his hardest to smother a panic attack. His breath came in pants and he began to hyperventilate. Bits and pieces of his memory came to him: All of the people he had killed over the years. It didn't matter _how_ he had killed them, or why. He remembered each and every person he had killed. To honor those. And for remembrance.

He panted continuously, never seeming to get enough breath to fill his lungs. Heero knew that if he didn't breathe properly soon, he would pass out from lack of air. But it didn't seem to matter. Not any more. Finally, huddling close to the little child's doll, something in Heero snapped.

He fell

twisting, falling,

deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Falling head over heels...

there seemed no respite in sight.

Continuously 

down

down

down...

deeper and deeper,

Heero fell.

But...

it didn't matter.

Not any more.

Not ever again...

Heero gasped, drawing night air deep within his lungs. The fires around him had died down a bit and the heat wasn't so unbearable. Hugging the doll close to his chest, close to his heart, Heero looked up at the star-filled night sky. It seemed as if billions upon billions of fire flies filled the air, shining down upon the earth, lighting the pathway for some. But, for others...their pathways were dim. Carefully, the young man tucked the doll into his belt, next to a soot-covered teddy bear. Once again, he was to honor. And, once again, for remembrance. He would never forgot. Never.

Turning his attention towards the horizon, where no stars lightened the pathway, Heero opened huge black bat wings and took off into the night sky.

~For remembrance...~

  
  



End file.
